Bobby Haarms, master of De Meer

David Endt 19th November 1999

Sometimes this heart cheers, this Ajax heart, sometimes this heart cheers warmly.
When Ajax scores its triumphs, when Cruijff dribbles, when Van Basten does his cycle kick, when Bergkamp lofts, when Knopper fires his cannonballs.
And my heart cheers when I, lost in thoughts, see the trees gently sway around the stadium. A scenery of security behind a scenery of expectation, hope and cheers.

My heart pounds....And cheers, softly, remembering how lividly Piotr barked when I walked round the bastion stadium. Piotr lived in the end house of Section A and furiously gave tongue to daunt us, running juniors. Six laps, six times Piotr's gravelly roar. You knew it would come and yet it scared me stiff, every time.

My heart sighs with every gasping breath as Bob calls his orders against the wind in the swinging winter light of the training field: A one....a two....a three....Finally, four times two hundred metres away from De Meer, towards De Meer.
Bob, lord and master of De Meer.

You knew every little spot.
The bogs near Section G, the little bridge to Voorland, Piotr's grave (still you waited for him to viciously roar as you passed the end house), the letters on the scoreboard. You knew every sound: the clog shuffle of Jan Lens, the keys of Auntie Greet, the crowd crying ooooooh at every missed opportunity, the hollow sound of the ball in the sports hall. You knew every scent: of the gullies next to the Voorland field, of the croquettes of Frits on the grandstand, of the mud of De Meer.
I remember and my heart cheers.

Sometimes my heart cries, my Ajax heart.
Grievously it cries when I drive along the Middenweg and descry, on the left, a sandy plain. A gate bows in its hinges.
Where are my trees, where lies Piotr, where are the ditch-side ticket offices? To where did Bob bully us? No magical four letter word in red. Rough depth of a lake. Once De Meer.
This heart cries grievously.

Better it is not to look. But to look back. Happiness conquers melancholy.
Beautiful Meer. Narrated and felt by the master of 'De Meer'.
Then my heart cheers!